Connection
by Smokey Joe
Summary: Sam's having dreams that connect him to Oklahoma where a teenage girl could be in danger of dying in the same manner as Mary Winchester and Jess. Set between Home and Asylum.
1. Dreams

Hey everyone! I was going through _Connection_ and found a few things I wanted to fix so I'm reposting the first four chapters. I added a few things here and there and took a few things away but the plot is still the same, don't worry. Chapter Five is in the works and should be up by the end of this weekend. Thanks so much for your patience, support, and REVIEWS. Those are the best motivator! Thanks again!

xo

SJ

Disclaimer: I own only those characters not seen on The WB.

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Chapter One

Sam Winchester had no fear of the dark itself, per say. Rather he feared what was within the dark, those demons and devils that threatened the lives of the innocent. Just recalling the stories Dean had told him in their childhood was enough to send chills running up and down his spine. Of course, knowing how to kill what threatened him made the seemingly unending blackness less terrifying, but in the past weeks the tables of the cosmos had turned. Sam now feared the dark because of what it meant to his physical state. The darkness brought sleep and with it dreams, nightmares. He often dreamt of Jess and the ceiling, sometimes his mother, and still other times he dreamt of Dean and his father, but none of them held the same sort of power as those dreams that were premonitions, it had been weeks since he'd had one of those. It seemed as though his mother's sacrifice at their childhood home in Lawrence had carried over into his subconscious as well. So, when Sam fell asleep at the motel just outside of St. Joseph Falls, Oklahoma he did so with the expectation that he would be able to rest his mind and body. He was sadly unable to do either.

It started with his back. Each vertebrae had been bruised when the spirit in Lawrence had slammed him against the walls of the kitchen. While the bruises were distracting they were nothing that Advil wouldn't fix and after taking three pills Sam settled back into his bed expecting to finally fall asleep, but still she loomed ever on the horizon, too far away to touch. Sam tried to clear his mind, tried to perform some of the relaxation techniques that Jess had taught him during finals, and even tried to match his breathing to Dean's deep and even breaths that whistled from the bed next to Sam's. Still sleep eluded him. Finally, when Sam was ready to give up completely he felt a wave of fatigue sweep over him that was so strong it felt almost like a physical weight. Within moments Sam was asleep and suddenly dreaming. He could tell right away that this dream was a premonition and not a nightmare; he could feel the familiar weight settling into his stomach. Taking a deep breath he turned his attention to the scene before him. Unlike his other premonitions, where he was an active participant, in this he was facing a movie screen. On the screen, framed by thick, red velvet curtains, he watched a girl, likely still in high school, who was goofing off with her older brother in the snow. At first they were out with the purpose of letting the dog out, but she'd picked up a handful of snow while the older brother wasn't looking and had hurled it at him.

Sam couldn't help but laugh, remembering a time he'd tried the same thing on Dean at one of the many truck stops they'd seen, but Dean being Dean had known it was coming and had avoided getting snow down his shirt. Sam left his thoughts and turned his attention back to the screen. The brother, in retaliation, ran towards her and scooped her up so that her back was pressed to his chest and swung her around in circles. She had been laughing before but Sam saw the change in her, he saw the way she sucked in a quick breath full of pain, the way that her shoulders had tensed, and he saw the way that she tried to hide her discomfort from her brother. The pain that had been manageable to her a moment before became unbearable and she cried out, softly, but still her brother heard. At once he set her back on the ground and turned her around to face him. Sam didn't need to hear them to know what path the conversation was taking; after all he'd grown up with Dean asking him the questions he was sure this older brother was asking now. Where does it hurt? How bad? What happened? He thought that this might be the end of the dream but suddenly, as though the film had been cut and spliced into another film entirely, the scene had changed and the girl he'd been watching before was now looking down at him with dead, unseeing eyes, her blood dropping down in two perfect circles onto his forehead. Sam woke screaming.

Dean was awake in an instant; next to Sam only a moment later after that.

"What, what is it?" Dean asked, his voice still thick with sleep. Sam breathed deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"Sorry, it was a nightmare." Sam gasped out, trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. Dean frowned as his stomach tightened in realization. Sam had been nightmare free for at least two weeks and Dean feared what it meant that Sam's period of peaceful, uninterrupted rest had ended.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked, unsure if he wanted a positive answer to his question or a negative one.

"No."

Dean sighed. He'd wanted a positive answer.

"Sam. . ." Dean began before the younger Winchester cut him off.

"No, Dean I don't want to talk about it. I don't think it was anything important, just a regular nightmare!" Sam exclaimed, exasperated. Dean stared at him for a moment longer, deciding whether or not to leave his younger brother to his thoughts or not. Dean stood and returned to his own bed and Sam was sure he heard him mumble something that sounded like, "Those are still pretty damn important." He pretended nothing had happened.

* * *

A mere thirty miles away Adelaide Jameson woke from her own nightmare, drenched in a cold sweat. She took a moment to search the charcoal corners of her room for anything out of place, any person unwelcome, but there was nothing there. Nothing was ever there. Sighing, Adelaide leaned back into her pillows and tried to slow her heart rate. The nightmares were coming more and more frequently, or so it seemed to her. Every one of them was the same. She would find herself laying on her back on a bed, eyes closed in peaceful bliss, but then her tranquility would be disturbed by two drips. She would open her eyes and find herself staring into the frozen face of a beautiful girl, bleeding freely from a gaping hole in her abdomen and suddenly fire would burst forth from her. Most nights the dream stopped there, but sometimes it went on and a strong, fierce looking man would call to her and drag her struggling form from the room. All her life Adelaide had been different in that she frequently knew things before they happened and she knew what people were feeling more often than not, but these dream were unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and Adelaide didn't understand them. She had talked them over with her older brother Caleb, but neither one of them had any bright ideas about what was the root of them. Adelaide thought that, perhaps, she was dreaming of her own death, though she did not share this particularly morbid interpretation with Caleb.

The other thing she'd been keeping from him were the bruises and the fact that the dream of the fire was not the only one in which the rough looking man appeared. Lately, when Adelaide dreamed of him she would wake to bruises like those one might receive in a fight, but Adelaide was a peaceful girl, and small for her age. Addy didn't fight physically, but in her dreams she did. In her dreams she fought with skills that she knew she didn't possess; after all, she'd barley made it through the three day karate demonstration in gym. Her parents, bless them their oblivion, never noticed the way that Adelaide sometimes limped in to breakfast, the frequency with which they were buying Neosporin and Icy-Hot patches, or that she needed to by more under-eye concealer to cover the bruises and black eyes that had no logical explanation. The worst had been the night she'd dreamed that the boy from her nightmares had tried to strangle her. For the next week she'd had to wear a turtleneck to cover the bruises, and even after that she'd had to cover them with a great deal of make-up. Lying had become a part of her everyday life, and seventeen year old Adelaide hated it, especially when it came to eighteen year old Caleb. He was not only her big brother but also her protector, defender, confidant, and best friend and Adelaide had never lied to him, until now. As Adelaide thought about Caleb the desire to go the ten short steps down the hall to his room became overwhelming. She knew he wouldn't mind being woken up at, she checked the clock, three in the morning. He'd ask her what was wrong, tell her everything would be fine when she told him it was a nightmare, and let her climb into his big, warm bed for the remainder of the night so that, for just a little while, Adelaide would feel safe.

A shock of cold traveled up her legs as Adelaide lowered her feet to the frozen wood floor of her bedroom and shivered as she grabbed a throw from her desk chair and made a run for it. Leaving the confines of her pink, flowery room she entered Caleb's sanctuary of blue flannel and basketball trophies. Leaning down she gently shook the older boy's shoulder.

"Caleb?" She whispered. He woke instantly.

"What's wrong Addy? Nightmare?" Wordlessly Adelaide nodded and waited for Caleb to throw back the sheets before climbing in for a, hopefully, a peaceful remainder of the night.

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	2. Adelaide

Here's part 2 and I hope you enjoy it! Don't forget to REVIEW! Thanks so much!

xoxo

SJ

Disclaimer: I own only those characters not seen on The WB.

* * *

Chapter Two

It had been easy for Sam to lie to Dean for the first few nights. He wasn't sure if it was easy because he'd become such an exceptional liar or if it was because Dean wanted to believe that nothing was wrong; that after enduring everything they had in Lawrence if Dean was ready for things to return to their equivalent of normal. Those nights of easy lies, ones that simply rolled off Sam's tongue ended the night he dreamed of Dean. Dean's appearance in Sam's regular nightmares was not abnormal, especially after the shape shifter, but Dean had never been in one of Sam's premonitions. This time he was watching the girl again. She was beneath Dean, his fingers wrapped around her throat, and though she fought him with everything in her she was still just a little girl in comparison to Dean. Sam stood from his theater seat and reached for the screen, screaming Dean's name as he did so, begging him not to kill this girl they had never met. What Sam failed to notice about the surroundings of the picture on the screen was that they were familiar to him. They were the same as Rebecca's house, the house where the shape shifter had almost killed him, the shape shifter that had looked like Dean.

Sam felt himself being pulled from sleep though he fought it. He needed to know how this ended, if the girl would live, but there was someone calling to him. Sam could hear his name but could not make out the voice, but that issue paled in comparison to the vision he was having. What the hell would make Dean kill this girl? When was it going to happen?

"Sammy!" This time he could not ignore the intensity or the voice. Dean was calling him and he sounded troubled. Sam couldn't risk his brother being in danger for the last snippets of a premonition that made no sense anyway.

"What's going on?" Sam mumbled as he lay gasping for breath on the cheap motel bed.

"You tell me. You were screaming my name, begging me to stop. What the hell were you dreaming, Sammy?" Dean asked as he leaned back, satisfied that he didn't need to monitor Sam too closely now that he was awake.

"It's Sam, and no I don't want to talk about it."

"Sam, this can't go on much longer. Whatever it is that your dreaming is not only interrupting your life it is interrupting mine. I deserve an answer." Sam could feel an anger building in him. Of course Dean managed to turn the whole thing around so it was about him, though Sam could see what Dean was trying to do.

"I've been having premonitions." Verbal diarrhea, that's what Sam was plagued with. He'd intended to tell Dean something along the lines of "go screw yourself", but no. He'd just confessed what he'd been hiding for days, and Sam saw immediately that premonitions were the last thing Dean had expected. More than that though, Sam could see Dean's apprehension to approach the subject of Sam's supernatural abilities.

"Okay. Well, what was it? Will it help us find Dad?" Dean could feel his stomach knotting up. Sam's premonitions bothered him, Dean couldn't lie about that, though Dean was pretty sure that what bothered him wasn't that Sam's premonitions existed but that he'd kept them from Dean for so long. It made him wonder what else Sam was hiding.

"That's the thing, I don't understand them. Usually, when they happen, I'm an active participant in them. I'm myself performing some action, but these have been different. . ."

"Wait a minute, these? There's been more than one?" Dean pressed. Sam sighed, the bigger picture was the important part, the part that Dean was missing.

"Dean, that's not the point. The point is that in these premonitions it's like I'm watching a movie. I'm sitting in a theater seat looking up at a movie screen watching this girl. I don't know who she is but the other night I saw her on a ceiling just like. . ." here he hesitated. "Just like Mom and Jess." Sam finished as Dean sighed heavily. There was nothing good about what he was hearing and Dean's apprehension was growing.

"Well, why the hell were you screaming at me? And Sammy, don't you dare tell me I was on that ceiling with her."

"It's Sam, and you weren't. That's the other weird part of it. You were there, and you were trying to kill her." Sam said the last part gently, but he still saw the look in Dean's eyes, the way the light there dimmed just a little, how he pulled back just a little.

"Okay, well, do you know where she is or who she is?" Dean asked, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

"No, that's the frustrating part. I have no clue where she is. Has there been anything in the paper about fires killing women?"

"Nothing. We'll buy a local paper tomorrow and check again." Dean offered as he returned to his own motel bed. Sam sighed. That had gone far better than he'd expected.

"And Sammy, try to premonition us something useful next time, like a location." Dean called to him, a smirk clear in his voice. Sam hurled his pillow at the other boy and settled in for the rest of the night.

* * *

What Adelaide Jameson loved about St. Joseph was that no one was an unknown. Of course this didn't mean that a person couldn't find themselves as a loner, but everyone in town would at least know your life history. So, when the mysterious black car rolled into town, Adelaide was wary of it right away. The girls at school had been chattering incessantly over the passengers of said car while some of the boys she knew were enamored with the car itself, but not Addy. Addy wanted nothing to do with the car, it's passengers, or what it meant. During her classes she could manage to distract herself long enough to forget about the town's hot gossip, but she found herself thinking about it whenever she had a free moment not occupied by the essays of Emerson, electron configurations, and geometric formulas; and this was how she knew. By her seventh period lunch Adelaide was certain, by the all too familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies dancing in her stomach anyway, that at least one of the passengers of the black car was the man from her dreams, the one who had tried to kill her in her nightmares.

But he wasn't making things easy on her. Just the night before Addy had dreamed that she was being strangled by the cord of a light and the boy had saved her, had held her against his shoulder as he shook with, what she assumed was, a mixture of terror and relief. Furthermore Addy knew that this boy was about to upset her life, so when her dearest friend Chastity, a more inappropriate name for a girl like her Addy had yet to find, found her and confessed that the night before she'd slept with one of her classmates Addy jumped at the chance to tear her thoughts away from the boys.

"Chastity, slow down." Adelaide demanded before the other girl had a chance to say anything.

"I didn't even do anything yet!" Chastity exclaimed, dramatically tossing her long blond locks over her shoulder. This, Adelaide conceded, was true. Chastity had been preoccupied with rearranging the lettuce and tomatoes on her chicken sandwich. She had been thinking quite rapidly however and had gone through too many emotions at once.

"I'm sorry but you're overloading my special sensor, if you catch my drift."

"Sorry, but I'm really conflicted about this, Adds." Chastity whined.

"No you're not, Chas. You're happy that you did it, what your conflicted about it what his girlfriend is going to think." Adelaide supplied. Chastity frowned. Having a psychic as a best friend was a real pain in the ass sometimes.

"Adelaide, I swear he told me the two of them had broken up." It was all she could offer in defense of her actions, not that Chastity felt she needed to defend what she'd done. Oh no, she just wanted Adelaide to see the whole picture.

"Chastity, don't worry about it. I have a special feeling that things will work out for you." The smaller redhead assured. This time she was glad it was something close to the truth. She really did have a good feeling about Ben Carruthers.

"Hey, did you hear about those guys that came into town this morning?" Chastity whispered conspiratorially. Addy sighed mentally, there was just no escaping them was there?

"Yeah, I don't have a good feeling about them, though." Addy confessed, pulling her sandwich into small, bite-sized pieces.

"A feeling or something more?" Damnit, Chastity knew her too well.

"I've been having dreams, yes, and I think that at least one of the boys in that car is connected to my dreams." Chastity studied her friend for a moment. She could not recall a moment at any time in their lives when Addy had sounded unsure of her gifts, but right now, sitting in their brightly lit cafeteria munching on a sandwich her mother had made in their white picket fence neighborhood Chastity could tell that Addy was terrified.

"Adelaide, things are going to work themselves out. Whoever these guys are they probably just need your help or something, right? Isn't that what you always dream?" Addy appreciated Chastity's encouragements but this was something she was going to have to figure out on her own, she had one of her special feelings about it.

* * *

Dean was sure that there was a circle in Hell waiting for him. He figured it wouldn't be one in the ice, or if it was maybe just his toes would be in that frozen lake, but Dean imagined that if he was going to Hell his circle would be a library filled with files. Dean hated searching through files. Sammy, he loved it but then Sammy had never really been like the other Winchester men. No, Sammy had taken after his mother. The younger man was loving this wasted afternoon of searching for newspaper articles about fires consuming homes where a woman had died. In three hours they had found fifty articles concerning fires, thirty of which involved a death, and fifteen of those that had involved a woman. Narrowing it down from there the brothers had added the criteria that the woman be a teenager and they were left with one. One freaking article that had nothing to do with a teenage girl getting herself plastered to her ceiling and burnt to a crisp. Dean was ready to lose it.

"Sammy, there's nothing here. Your dream girl obviously isn't dead yet." Dean whined, sounding dangerously close to five year old status.

"You're right, this is pointless. I don't know what to do Dean. I can't think of any way to find her. I don't even know where to look." Sam's confessed perhaps more for himself than for Dean.

"Well, why don't we find a motel? Then you can get some sleep and dream up a way to find her." Dean suggested. Sam sighed. Dean's sarcasm wasn't helping much either.

As they drove Sam found his mind wandering back to times from his childhood and how when driving thorough neighborhoods such as this one he'd wished that he could be one of the little boys that lived with the safe, sturdy walls of an actual home, instead of a car and sometimes, when they were lucky, a motel. His thoughts were interrupted when they turned onto Primrose Lane. Each house was the same basic design, differences in only the color, the option of shutters, and whether there was a fence or not, but Sam knew this place. He'd seen the girl frolicking in one of these yards with an older brother. Everything was exactly as it had been in his dream, the snow and all, and it suddenly hit Sam like a ton of bricks. There, at house 1541, a green affair without shutters but with a fence, was the girl preparing to throw a snowball at her brother.

"Dean! Stop here!" Sam exclaimed, paralyzed in fascination. Dean looked between his younger brother and the fairytale scene taking place just beyond the car windows.

"Is that her?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, that's her."

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Don't forget that beautiful little purple button! Thanks a lot!


	3. They're Going to Kill Me

Here's chapter three. Don't forget to review and thank you for your patience! Thank you to those of you who have already reviewed, you guys have really given me the motivation to keep going with this at the speed I've been going, otherwise this might never have been finished. You all are my heros! As always let me know if you find any errors and e-mail me if you have any questions or anything. Thanks a bunch!

xoxo

SJ

Disclaimer: I own only those characters not seen on The WB.

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Chapter Three

Dean waited for a cue from Sam. He was just a bystander, how the hell was he supposed to know what to do? While waiting for the cue that probably wasn't going to come in the near future, Dean took the moment to study the two teenagers goofing off in the yard. The girl, a little thing that he would have guessed to be ten if Sam hadn't told him otherwise, was building a snowman (which served only to enforce the idea that she was ten in Dean's mind) with her older brother, though it seemed to Dean as though the brother was doing most of the building and she was simply wreaking havoc. Dean snorted, he could easily relate to that situation. Sam had been absolutely useless when they'd constructed the few snowmen they'd had the chance to build, and it had been his idea every time, but this brother, much like Dean, was willing to do whatever would make his younger sibling happy. Abruptly the face of their mother flashed into Dean's mind and any fuzzy memory he had from his childhood was erased. Dean leaned back into the comfortable seat of his Chevy. He couldn't wait any longer.

"Sam," he began before being cut off by the younger Winchester.

"Shh, wait a minute, Dean. I just need to see something." Sam sounded far away, lost in his thoughts. Dean looked between his brother and the teenagers on the lawn. He didn't get it. So this was the girl from the nightmare? Now what? Dean watched the older brother as he got creamed with a snowball, and he smirked with the pride he found in knowing that Sam had never been able to get him, let alone some munchkin of a girl. What Dean didn't consider, something he supposed he should have, was that the older boy let himself get hit for his sister's ego's sake. Dean sighed as he watched the older boy chase the girl around, watched as he picked her up from behind and twirled her around the same way he had Sammy when they'd been younger, and he saw the same thing Sam had. He saw her face contort with pain and he reacted without thinking, he got out of the car, Sam following closely behind him. As they drew closer Sam reached out and dropped a hand onto Dean's shoulder, pleading for Dean to let Sam handle this thing. Dean hung back a little behind his younger brother, ready for anything. Ahead of them the girl had been unable to hold back her small whimper of pain, her only concession to the ache in her body. Upon hearing this her older brother had immediately set her back on her feet and was pleading with her to tell him what had happen, had he hurt her, if so then where.

She sensed them before he did. Caleb watched Addy's head snap to attention as the two older boys drew closer to them.

"Caleb, our guests have been traveling for some time now. Can you get a pot of tea going?" She asked in a tone that Caleb understood. She was all business. Sighing he left her on the lawn, a place where he could keep an eye on her from the kitchen, this was his baby sister after all.

"Hey. Welcome to Nowhere Oklahoma," Adelaide teased. The boys smiled, more to be polite than because the joke had actually been funny. She took a breath and decided to just jump right in.

"Well, I know you," she pointed to Dean, "but I don't know you." Here she pointed to Sam. The brothers exchanged a look. They'd figured that she would know Sam if she knew anyone.

"You know me?" Dean asked. Adelaide nodded.

"You've been in a lot of my visions lately. In one of them you were strangling me and in another you were unwrapping a cord from around my neck." Adelaide elaborated. The brothers exchanged another look.

"Do you think that you could describe these visions in greater detail?" Sam asked her. Addy nodded as she gestured towards the house.

"Come on in. . ."

"Sam, and this is my brother Dean Winchester."

"Adelaide Jameson. I hope you guys like tea." She smiled, knowing that Dean would rather drink jet fuel. She could sense that he was about to say something and cut him off, "Don't worry, Dean, we have coffee." Sam laughed as the boys followed her into the house. In the living room they encountered the Jameson parents, Addy's father Martin calmly reading the newspaper while a football game played out on the television meanwhile her mother, Anne, was seated reading a novel. Sam felt his heart catch. They were a normal family, living out the normal life he'd wanted for all of his. In the kitchen Caleb had finished boiling the water and was pouring out three mugs of tea, a mug of coffee waiting for Dean next to the tea, leaving Sam to wonder whether or not Caleb had visions of his own. When they'd had their tea and had exhausted all forms of pleasant conversation Adelaide suggested that she show the boys their town. The brothers watched as she gently explained to Caleb that he needed to stay behind and that she would return in about an hour. That settled the brothers left the house, Adelaide walking between them.

"So, tell us about your visions, Adelaide." Sam implored.

"Well, I've had them all my life as well as just knowing things, like how I knew you hated tea but practically live off coffee. They've always been about people I know until the night I dreamt about the girl on the ceiling." Dean looked over her head to see Sam stiffen ever so slightly.

"It starts with me walking into this apartment, my apartment I guess, and I lay down but I feel something drip onto my forehead and when I open my eyes she's staring at me and I scream something, but I never remember what it is, and then she suddenly bursts into flames. That's when you come in and pull me out of the room." Addy continued, gesturing to Dean for this last part.

"Is that it?" Dean asked.

"No. I've had three dreams that I can't explain. That was the first one. In the second one I was in a house with you Dean, and we were fighting. We were tied for a little while but then you pinned me and started strangling me. Something made you stop but I was too messed up to see what it was, and then I woke up. It was weird to begin with but even weirder because in the next one I was being strangled by some cord and you were the one to save me." Sam sighed. It all made sense to him now. She'd been dreaming of his waking moments from the previous weeks.

"You've been dreaming my life, Addy. The girl on the ceiling was my girlfriend, the time you saw Dean try to strangle me happen when a shape shifter took on his body, and the time with the cord happened only a week ago at our old family home." Sam offered her. Dean was surprised that Sam had given her that much but figured it was what she deserved, she'd gotten sucked into their lives after all.

"I don't understand this. What's connecting us? Up until today I'd never met you before."

"I think the connection is because of me. I've been dreaming of you too." Sam confessed. Adelaide sighed and stopped walking. Pulling a tissue from her purse she dipped it into the snow on the ground and rubbed away some of the make-up on her wrist before holding it out to the brothers. Her delicate wrist was crisscrossed with bruises, some beginning to fade while others looked as though it would take years for her skin to return to it's original perfect shade.

"Well we need to figure out how to break the connection. Otherwise these dreams are going to kill me."

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See that glorious purple button right below these words? Go ahead and push it, you know you want to. Part four on it's way.


	4. Plans

Here's chapter four. I just want to take a moment to thank all those people who have stuck with me from chapter one. All your comments and support have been so helpful to me. Chapter five is in the works. I'd planned to have chapter five up by Thursday but this horrific thing sweetly called a Choir concernt occured and set me back as well as a few perfectly timed tests by my very, very evil teachers. Either way, but the end of this weekend I'll have Chapter Five up if it kills me.

As always please review! Also, let me know if you find any errors or any other issues and feel free to e-mail me with questions, comments, whatever. Thanks so much!

xoxo

SJ

Disclaimer: I own only those characters not seen on The WB.

* * *

Chapter Four

"Sam, this is a bad idea. We should just get the hell out of here." Dean growled at him. Walking just ahead of them, Adelaide was giving the boys a moment, she could sense that they needed to talk something over on their own.

"Dean, you saw the bruises. She can't keep going like this. One of these dreams is bound to catch up with her, and what happens when I get hurt again?" Sam pressed. Dean winced internally. He didn't really like the idea that Sam was so comfortable with the fact that everything they'd faced lately had been kicking his ass, and he didn't like that Sam was convinced it would keep happening. He'd been better trained than that, but Dean let these thoughts and opinions go for the time being, filing them away for later.

"Well, what can we do to help her? I've never heard of something like this before. I don't know what to do here, Sammy." Dean whispered harshly, having trouble forming the words and getting them out. Sam sighed. He understood that Dean was panicking because, once again, he didn't know what to do, didn't know how to take care of the situation. Lawrence had been bad enough and now, Sam was sure, Dean had to feel like he was being thrown from the frying pan into the fire.

"Dean, you don't have to know how to fix this. Besides that I have a pretty good idea of what's going on, I just don't yet how to take care of things." Sam offered, lightening Dean's load.

"Are you going to enlighten me here?"

"The first time I dreamed of her she was burning on a ceiling. I think that's why we have this connection. What I can't figure out is how to break it." Dean thought about it for a moment as they continued to walk. They were getting closer and the snow was beginning to fall again. The snow was light, almost as though the heavens were dusting the world with salt. _Salt_. That gave Dean an idea.

"What if we treat this like a possession. I mean, some people when possessed have dreams and it's almost as if you two have possessed one another. Let's lay some salt around the both of you, exorcize your dreams, give her some protection blessings, and then get the hell out of dodge." Sam studied Dean. It could work. It was so crazy it could actually work.

"Wait a minute, Dean. The possessor is destroyed in the ritual. If we go through this you're going to kill either Adelaide or me, how do we distinguish who is the possessor and who is the possessed?" Sam tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, though he wasn't sure that it had worked.

"But since neither of you is truly possessed wouldn't it just treat you both as the possessed?" Both men paused to ponder the question.

"I don't know, Dean, but what else can we do? I mean, she can't sleep in a ring of salt for the rest of her life, and we don't even know if _that_ will work! We can't just stand by and do nothing, though!" Sam exclaimed.

"I never said we shouldn't help her, I'm just saying that maybe my first plan wasn't the best one given the situation." Dean took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. Yelling at Sam wasn't going to help the situation. They had no idea as to what kind of time frame they were looking at and had no real plan of action at this point. The way Dean saw it, they were screwed.

"Okay, well let's say this is our last resort plan. . ."

"Sam," Dean warned.

"No, I'm serious, Dean. If it comes down to this plan or she dies anyway then we need to talk to her about it. Adelaide should have a choice in this." Sam was begging him to understand because, and this was what Dean feared the most, Sam knew it was going to come down to this plan. Dean could see it in the set of Sam's shoulders and the sadness in his eyes.

"No, Sam. No." As though saying it a thousand times would change anything.

"Hey, you guys. You passed my house." Addy called to them from her porch. The boys were almost two houses away. Dean gave Sam a look that clearly said their conversation was closed and that Sam wasn't going to say anything to her about it, and Dean could see that Sam wasn't going to listen to him. When this was all over, Dean decided, he was going to kick Sam's ass.

* * *

"So you're saying that if we do this one of us is going to die?" Adelaide looked between the brothers. Dean, slouched in his chair, looking every bit like a teenager that had just been busted for doing something wrong and was waiting for their punisher to dish out their worst, daring them even. Sam was sitting on the edge of his chair, elbows resting in the surface of the table, chin resting on his clasped hands.

"We don't really know. Both of us could walk away from this and be just fine, but one of us could die." Sam's smooth, even voice betrayed his concerns. Caleb, who had been sitting quietly through the entire conversation, suddenly slammed his fist against the table causing the plates to rattle.

"No! No way in hell am I letting you risk my little sister's life on some half assed idea! No!" He screamed, glad that his parents were already at their charity function.

"Finally, someone with some common sense," Dean muttered darkly. Sam sighed as he glared at Dean, his older brother wasn't helping at all.

"Caleb, I'm going to die if we do nothing. This thing that killed their mother and Sam's girlfriend is going to come after me. If we try this I might have a fighting chance. I might die but it's better than just waiting for this thing to come and kill me." Adelaide spoke softly, praying that her brother would understand, that he would see things the way she did. Caleb sighed, he knew his sister, she would fight this to the death. Caleb nearly laughed at the irony in his thoughts but restrained himself, laughing now would be a bad idea, a very bad one.

"Why don't you sleep on it? We'll set up some basic protections for you that should keep you safe from dreams tonight and then you can make your decision once you've given this a fair amount of thought." Dean suggested, praying that this move would buy him enough time to convince Sam that trying to exorcize them was a bad idea.

"Yeah, okay. Caleb and I will talk it over tonight." Addy conceded, scratching at her eyes. It wasn't even nine o'clock and already she was exhausted. The brothers were at the front door when Addy's voice stopped them.

"Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?" She stood before the brothers, Sam already halfway out the door. Dean looked to his younger brother who shrugged, accepted the keys to the Chevy, and left the two to their conversation.

"What's wrong, Adelaide?" Dean asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I know that you're worried that if you do this you're going to lose Sam, that he is going to die and then you'll be alone, and I can sense that you have issues with being without him, but you have to let him make his own decisions, Dean. Even if it kills you, you have to stand back and be an observer in this. He's a grown man and he knows what the risks are. He has to make this choice on his own. Just let him go, Dean. You're his older brother but you can't shield him forever." Dean looked at her. Deep down he knew that she was right, that Sam was a man now, not the baby that had been thrust into his arms when he was a child. Sam had seen everything Dean had, he knew what he was doing, but Dean was Sam's older brother and that meant it was his responsibility to look after Sam, no matter how old they were, and Dean would be damned if he failed him now.

"Get some rest, Adelaide. We'll be back in the morning." He told her gruffly as he closed the door softly behind him.

* * *

Don't forget the magic purple button just below these words!


	5. Ready?

Chapter Five

_Sam, I don't want you to do this._ The words were right there on Dean's tongue and still he couldn't get them out. It was as though someone had wired his jaw shut and every time he thought to open his mouth and speak he found a physical force stopping him. So, instead of speaking his desires, Dean blasted the radio at a volume loud enough to destroy his hearing and anyone else's standing within fifty feet of the Chevy. The music did not serve to ease his anger or nerves, acting instead as an accelerant. As the drums, guitars, and vocals reached their climax, Dean felt his emotions reaching their own zenith, until he could feel them as a physical weight in his body, but still he could not find the words to tell Sam that this plan of his, well of Dean's really, was the most asinine thing they'd ever thought up. In the passenger seat of the Impala Sam was doing his best not to look at Dean. He could feel his older brother's anger growing, something he didn't need supernatural abilities for. How could Sam explain to him that he had to do this? That he'd never been more certain of anything in his entire life?

"Dean," he began, though he wasn't sure where he would go from there.

"Sammy, I don't want to hear it right now. I want to go back to the motel and I want to wake up tomorrow and find that I just dreamed up the lobotomy you must have had that makes you think this plan is any good." He had to scream to be heard over the volume of Black Sabbath, but it felt good to do so. It made the weight in his chest a little lighter, pressing not so strongly against his lungs.

"Alright, we won't talk about it right now, but we're going to have to before tomorrow. We don't have any other plan and we can't go in there without an idea of how we're going to do this." Sam returned calmly.

"First of all, this isn't a 'we' doing something. You're going to be out cold, I'm going to be doing this alone. Second, we don't even know if Adelaide is going to agree to this." Dean reminded him, chest growing ever lighter.

"She'll agree to it." The certainty in Sam's voice pushed all the weight he'd just beat back upon his chest and once again Dean found his anger reaching a level he'd never been to before. It scared him a little that he could get that angry, especially at Sam.

"What did you have a vision of it, Sammy? Huh? Did you happen to just vision up your death?" Sam was thrown by the venom in Dean's voice.

"What the hell's your problem, Dean?"

"What's my problem, Sammy? Here, I'll tell you. My half-brained little brother is so focused on saving everyone he meets and is so concerned with everyone else that he doesn't take care of himself. He's gone and iced the cake this time though, let me tell you. This time he's going to get himself killed and he hasn't even thought about. . ." Dean cut himself off but Sam knew what he had been planning to say. Sam hadn't stopped to think about Dean, that's what this was all about. It struck Sam then, Dean was afraid, possibly the most terrified he'd ever been.

"I'm going to be fine, Dean. I trust you not to let anything happen to me." Dean pulled into a parking spot directly in front of the door to their motel room and killed the power, plunging them suddenly into total blackness.

"Sammy, when are you going to learn, I don't control the universe." Dean nearly whispered this before fleeing the car, not giving Sam a chance to respond. Sam, who had been stunned into silence, stumbled out of the car and into the motel room, where he found that Dean had locked himself in the bathroom. A minute later he heard the shower start up. Sighing he leaned against the headboard of his own motel bed and flicked through the channels on the television, settling on a college basketball game that was half over. It was only half occupying his attention, anyway.

Sam pondered Dean's behavior in the car. Not only had his anger thrown Sam but also the brief sadness Sam had seen there. For just a moment Dean's eyes had flashed with an emotional pain Sam had never seen before. Sure he'd been to plenty of funerals in his time, had seen death from every possible angle, and had comforted those left behind whenever he could, but he'd never seen anyone's eyes look the way Dean's had. Sliding down lower on the bed, Sam pillowed his head on his arms and wondered why two words were standing out in his mind. _Left _and_ behind._ They circled his thoughts, dancing in and out of Sam's daydreams as the sounds of the shower lulled him into a peaceful state and just as Sam was about to drift away into sleep he found his answers. Left behind, it was what Dean feared. Dean didn't want Sam to die thus leaving Dean to fight all things evil on his own. Dean had raised Sam. When Sam had the flu Dean stayed up with him, rubbed his back as he'd retched into the bucket Dean had placed before him. When Sam had broken his arm for the first time it was Dean who had held his undamaged hand, assuring the younger boy that he wouldn't feel anything when the doctor straighten the bones. Sam had always thought that Dean had done all those things for him, but now he had to wonder how much of it was Dean's desire not to be alone? Sam would have liked to work through his thoughts more but the black oblivion of sleep was calling to him and Sam found himself powerless to stop it.

Dean finished in the shower feeling far better than when he had entered. The cascade of burning hot water had turned his skin a harsh shade of red but had served to loosen the muscles in his back and neck. He felt better about approaching the topic of the coming morning with Sam, but when he opened the door, a wave of steam following his footsteps, he found his brother asleep, hands beneath his head, the TV remote on his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. Dean sighed and flopped down on his own bed after turning the television off. He counted to five before grabbing his pillow and throwing it at Sam's head at the same time that he screamed Sam's name. He received the desired effect. Sam jumped away with a loud, "Yah!" Turning his gaze on his brother the younger Winchester glared at Dean as he tried to regulate his breathing.

"What. . .the. . .hell is the. . .matter with. . . you." He ground out. Dean flashed Sam his winning smile and waited for Sam's breathing to even out.

"Nothing is wrong with me, but you were right before in the car. We need to plan for tomorrow." Sam studied his older brother, unsure of whether or not he was still dreaming.

"What?"

"We, as in you Sammy and I, need to figure out what we are going to do tomorrow, be it exorcizing you and Adelaide or something else to break your connection." Dean clarified.

"What changed from this afternoon?"

"I thought about something Adelaide suggested to me. That's not the point though, Sammy. The point is that if we exorcize the two of you tomorrow we need to have a plan. You guys could die as it is, we don't need any other complications."

"Are you sure about this?" Caleb asked his younger sister for the thousandth time that morning. The brother and sister were still sitting in their car before the motel they planned to meet the Winchester brothers at. All morning Caleb had been asking Adelaide at random moments if she was really ready to do this, if she was willing to put her life in the hands of two men she'd know for less than twenty-four hours, and if she was sure this wasn't some kind of scam. The last question was Adelaide's favorite. She was psychic, she knew it wasn't a scam. Adelaide, though tempted to say no to her brother simply to see his reaction, replied that she was ready, and before he could ask again she was standing at the motel door. It took only a half a knock for the door to open, revealing Sam seated on one of the two beds. The bed he faced had been stripped down to the mattress and covered with bath towels. Adelaide didn't know what to think about that but tried to slow her racing heart.

"Come in guys." Dean offered quietly as he pushed the door open for the two guests.

"So, what's going to happen?" Caleb asked as soon as the door closed. Dean took a seat next to his brother, leaving the opposite bed for the Jameson siblings.

"Sam and Adelaide are going to lay on that bed where we'll bind their wrists together and place a circle around the both of them, hopefully this will help in the cosmos understanding that we want to exorcize them together. We can't exorcize them from each other because that would ultimately lead to their deaths." Dean explained.

"What happens if this goes wrong?" Adelaide asked slowly. She felt Caleb tense next to her. He was, perhaps, more afraid of the answer than she was.

"You'll both die." Sam tensed at his brothers inability to be tactful, though he understood why Dean had been so blunt. Blunt wasn't what Caleb and Adelaide needed though.

"Everything is going to be fine, though. Dean's been through an exorcism before. He knows what he's doing." Sam tried to reassure them. Caleb only paled while Adelaide's jaw tightened.

"Do you want to take some time and think about this before we go through with it? Because once we start we can't stop." Dean offered.

"No, we need to do this now. I can't think about it anymore." Sam nodded in agreement with Adelaide. He didn't want to think about the fact that in an hour he could be dead, didn't want to think about what kind of guilt that would put on Dean's already overburdened shoulders, and didn't want to think that because of his sometimes misguided desire to save people that a girl with her entire life laid out before he could be dead.

"Okay, let's get started." Dean said. Adelaide stood and moved into her brother's tight embrace, unable to stop the tears that had been threatening to overtake her since the night before. She found herself wishing that she'd said some sort of goodbye to her parents that was more meaningful than just the "I love you" she'd given them. Sam and Dean tried to give them what little privacy they could as they finished setting up the room. Finally, when there were no other ways to delay the inevitable Adelaide took her place on the bed. Sam, preparing to settle in next to her, turned to Dean at the last minute and pulled his older brother into a fierce embrace that lasted no longer than a minute, but it left Sam feeling better about the situation.

"Don't kill me, Big Brother." Sam whispered as he let the older man go. Dean smacked him over the back of the head.

"I thought I explained that I don't do chick flick moments, Sammy." Sam shook his place and joined Adelaide. Caleb bound their wrists with a white, silk scarf before joining Dean in creating and unbroken ring of salt around the two. Dean took a deep breath and in the moment before beginning what could be the end for his brother Dean found himself thinking of their father and how for all the times that he and Sam had fought, john Winchester would never forgive Dean if he let Sam die. Shaking all thoughts from his mind Dean opened John Winchester's journal and took a breath to calm his nerves.

"Ready? Let's get started."


	6. The Exorcism

Bonjour! Well, first off my apologies for this chapter not being up sooner. On Monday I realized that the term paper for my government class that I thought was due NEXT Friday was actually due THIS Friday. So, I've had an exciting week on that end, as well as like 80 tests. You'd think it was the week before Christmas break. Anyways, I live on the East Coast and was banking on getting a snow day, but no, I got gipped. 2 hr delay only, so this chapter that I've written 4 times now, that was to be posted during my snow day, is being posted now. So without anymore bullshit from me here is chapter 6. HAPPY READING!

Disclaimer: I own only those characters you've never seen on The WB that I keep typing as The EB. Whatever.

SJ

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Chapter Six

"Ready? Let's get started." Dean said, hands shaking slightly. Caleb, from the other side of the bed, nodded though he paled slightly as he did so. With a responding nod Dean handed the younger man the lines that he would need to say. On the bed between them Sam and Adelaide, who had been given a mix of herbs and water, were finally asleep, hopefully in a blissful, peaceful place. Dean started with a protection charm, figuring that it couldn't hurt to try, the familiar Latin serving to calm his frazzled nerves. With a nod to Caleb they moved into the actual exorcism, beginning by exorcizing Adelaide from Sam. They got a reaction right away. Adelaide's back arched dramatically, her breaths labored. Sam tried to turn away from her, but the silk scarf that bound them was as strong as a metal chain and held him in place. Dean continued, though he ached to reach out and lay a hand on his brother, anything to let Sam know Dean was there, but the older Winchester resisted and continued with the exorcism. As his words grew in strength Adelaide began to thrash even more violently on the bed. Dean spared Caleb a look and saw the way the older boys' eyes were focused on his younger sister.

"Caleb, can you do this?" Dean's only break in his Latin.

"Yes, I'm fine." The younger man responded, though his voice shook slightly.

"I need you to hold Adelaide in place. If that scarf comes untied we'll lose them both." Dean stressed. Not bothering to look and see if Caleb had complied, Dean pushed on nearing the end of Adelaide's ritual, but though the end was near Adelaide's breathing was becoming far more strained and thousands of tiny cuts in her skin had appeared. Though Caleb had been restraining his sister for only a few moments his shirt was already covered in her blood. Dean spoke as quickly as he could, wanting to end Adelaide's suffering as well as Caleb's. He should have explained to Caleb more clearly what it was like to be the one on the outside, always watching people suffer through them, but he hadn't and now that they were in the thick of things there really was not point to it. So, Dean kept his comments to himself, ignored the screams issuing forth from Adelaide's mouth and the way they drew her brother's tears, and ignored the familiar guilt that welled up in him at being the cause of such pain. When it seemed that Caleb was about to reach his breaking point, Adelaide finally quieted with one last cry of agony. Dean took a shaky breath and looked down at the girl for the first time since he'd started the exorcism. She was pale, tiny lines around her eyes and lips spoke of the physical strain that she was under, and cuts, some deep others shallow, covered her body. Through the slits in her t-shirt he could see a few on her stomach that would need stitches. Dean sent up a quick prayer that Sam would not suffer similarly.

"Do you need a minute?" Dean asked with uncharacteristic kindness when he saw how close Caleb was to the breaking point.

"No, I just want to get this over as quickly as possible. Keep going." Caleb replied, unable to keep a slight tremor from his voice. Dean turned his attention back to his father's journal, turning back to the previous page and starting the same ritual over, this time on Sam. The reaction, to Dean's chagrin, was exactly the same. His back arched dramatically as he fought against Caleb who, though stronger than the average boy his age, had his work cut out for him. For all of Sam's lankiness he was pure muscle. Sam's skin split, one long cut just above his left eyebrow, another along his right arm, cutting from his elbow to his wrist, as well as three deep cuts that resembled claws along his abdomen. Dean tried to block out his brother's cries of agony, but they bit at him, and Dean found that he could feel every single cut Sam received. As Dean approached the end Sam's cries became less frequent, ending just at Dean whispered his final words. Here he paused and looked up at Caleb.

"This is going to be the rough part. I don't know what happens from here but we have to finish this thing now. If we stop in the middle of this we'll kill them both. I need your help but if you can't handle losing your sister I need you to leave." Caleb nodded, understanding Dean's warning. What he had just experienced was nothing compared to what was coming.

* * *

Caleb stood back and watched his sister closely; looking for any signs that Dean's words were having any affect at all. He had begun the second part of the exorcism just a few minutes ago and so far both Sam and Adelaide had been silent and motionless on the bed. He spared a look at Dean and could tell that the older boy found it odd as well, if the wrinkles crisscrossing his forehead were any indication. As Dean continued Caleb began to notice that each time Sam or Adelaide took a breath the vapors could be seen in the air, but he felt no temperature change in the room at all.

"Dean, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" He asked quietly, afraid of what the answer might be. Dean halted in the middle of a sentence and looked down at the prone forms on the bed. He saw what Caleb had wanted him to see, the little vapor puffs and the steady rise and fall of their chests the only sign that they were still alive. Dean placed his hand on Sam's chest and frowned. His younger brother's body was cold to the touch.

"I've never seen something like this. Let's try to finish this as quickly as possible." Dean suggested and, without waiting for Caleb's response, resumed the exorcism. Not a minute later both men could see that things were clearly going to get worse before they got better. Sam's lips had taken on a bluish tint to them while Adelaide's lips were already purple and both of them had begun to shiver. Still, Dean plodded on and felt his heart drop when Caleb called to him again.

"What, Caleb?"

"They aren't breathing!" He cried moving to perform CPR.

"No! Don't touch them. We can't risk it. This will be over in a few minutes and then they'll be able to breathe again." Dean reasoned returning to the Latin words before him. As he approached the climax of the exorcism, his attention split between the words before him and Sam's still unmoving chest, he watched in horror as both Sam and Adelaide's shivering increased until it was violent shaking.

"Caleb," Dean only had to say his name and the younger man was trying to hold the two down, making sure that the scarf remained tied around their wrists, and Dean suddenly understood how things were going to end. So, ignoring the fact that both Sam and Adelaide were gasping for air Dean took a moment to say to Caleb, "As soon as I finish this thing take Adelaide and get her to a hospital. Don't tell them that you had your sister exorcized, lie to them." Caleb, though confused nodded his agreement.

"When I give you the sign grab her and get her to a hospital." Caleb nodded again, though Dean was already finishing the ritual and with a look Caleb was gathering up his sister and making a run for the door. Immediately Adelaide had regained her color, turning from bluish purple right back to a healthy pink, but Sam failed to do so, but somehow Dean had known it was coming. He'd known that he'd have to fight for Sam. Throwing the journal to the side Dean went to his brother and checked to see if he was breathing. How long had it been? How long before he suffered brain damage? Dean pushed such thoughts out of his mind and started CPR on his little brother, shocked at how cold Sam's lips were. Over and over in his head he counted as little prayers slipped in between the numbers. One-one-thousand-_please God don't do this to me_-two-one-thousand-_don't take Sammy from me_-three-one-thousand-_ damn you Sammy breathe._ Dean continued pushing air into his brother's frozen lungs, trying to remember the project he'd done at some long forgotten school about hypothermia. Despite Dean's efforts, he could feel Sam's heartbeat slowing, feel his brother slipping away, and when Sam's heart finally gave out Dean did the only thing he could; he rested his head against his brother's chest and cried for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. He'd killed his brother.

* * *

Sam was exhausted but felt something pulling at his subconscious that forced his eyes open. He was freezing cold, that was the first thing he noticed; followed closely by the fact that he was no longer in the motel room in Oklahoma. He was also alone; Adelaide, Caleb, and Dean were nowhere to be found. Pushing himself into a sitting position Sam looked around him. Somehow he'd been moved to the woods, all around him trees of varying sizes seemed to be staring at him while just ahead there was a gate.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered to himself as he walked towards the gate.

"You got it right the first time, dear boy." A viciously seductive voice called to him from behind. Turning quickly, Sam found himself face to face with a fascinatingly beautiful creature. Her ears were pointed, like an elves, and was taller than he expected, she could almost look him in the eye. She was garbed in a flowing, elegant black dress that looked to be made of velvet. Her eyes were as black as the dress and her hair, if possible, a shade darker. She seemed to magically materialize to Sam, though he wondered how long she'd been watching him sleep.

"I don't understand. What happened? Am I dreaming?" Sam moved to scratch his head but stopped the action when he realized there was a large cut across the back of his hand. He looked down and realized that his clothing was in tatters, he looked as though he'd been whipped.

"You are in the realm of the damned. Right now you are neither living nor are you dead. It is here that the next part of your journey will be decided." She explained in a voice that was smooth as silk.

"So, you're telling me I'm dead?"

"No, obviously you weren't listening to me. I said that the next part of your journey would be decided here. There are options. You may die and if that is part of your journey you may be reincarnated, you might go to heaven, you might go to hell, or you might be sent back to your body." She clarified.

"Well, do I have any say in the matter? Who decides?" Sam asked, anger building. He wanted to go back to Dean, to his life, to the endless road trip that he let Dean believe he hated. At that particular moment Sam wanted nothing more than to live.

"I don't know. I am not the one that makes decisions such as those. I am only your guide, to explain to you where you stand and to make sure you move on to your next gate. I don't like company. And now, Samuel Winchester, you have hovered here long enough. Follow the light and wherever it stops is your decided path. Hopefully I'll see you again someday." She said and with no further explanation Sam was pushed through the wrought iron gate into a light that did nothing to warm him but comforted him all the same, and Sam prayed that today would not be the day he died.

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Don't forget that darling little review button!


	7. Cold

Hi everyone. First up THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed! I was so surprised to open my e-mail and see so many comments. I keep forgetting to put this up, but I always respond to reviews and if you do NOT want me to send you a response please let me know in your review. Anyway, I was going to make this longer but decided to break the chapters up so I could get something out there in this lifetime. The end is in sight, but there are a few more things I want to get out before I let this one go. So, without anymore bs from me here is chapter 7!

Disclaimer: I own only those characters who you haven't seen on The WB.

xo SJ

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Chapter Seven

Dean's tears had started out as a slow trickle of disbelief but had steadily grown into breath stealing sobs of anguish. A loop of images flowed through Dean's mind, images of all the things Sammy would never get a chance to do. A graduation from college, a wedding, the birth of a child, and seeing that child's life pass. Dean had robbed his brother of those chances. As Dean continued on his guilt trip he finally remembered what he'd learned from the science project he'd done in middle school. By performing CPR on Sammy he'd only made things worse. He'd been forcing Sammy's heart to pump frozen blood through his body. The guilt Dean felt only made his sobs increase until he could no longer catch his breath. He knew if he didn't calm down he'd start to hyperventilate and would make himself physically ill, but Dean just couldn't find it in himself to care. So what if he couldn't breathe? Sammy would never breathe again.

"God, Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Dean sobbed as he ran his hands through the younger Winchester's hair, pushing Sam's long bangs away from his forehead. Dean, so lost was he in grief, that he failed to notice when Sam's fingers began to stretch, or that his chest was beginning to rise and fall slowly. It was only when Sam took huge, gasping breath, one that nearly drew him up off the bed, did Dean notice that his brother had a pulse. Sam was not, in fact, dead.

"Jesus, Sammy." Dean gasped as he pulled his brother, who had yet to open his eyes, against his chest in a fierce embrace.

"Dean?" Sam rasped, reaching out with his fingers to feel who held him.

"It's me, Sammy, I'm right here." Dean replied as he took Sam's outstretched fingers in his own. Alive again, Sam found that the cold he had felt in the in-between realm had not left him and he felt his body begin to shake.

"Dean, I-I-I'm s-so c-cold." Dean winced as he heard Sam's teeth click together when he gasped the four simple words.

"I know; I'll fix it." Dean vowed. Easing Sam back onto the bed, Dean grabbed the bedding they'd stripped earlier and threw it on top of Sam, adding the comforter from his own bed. With a last reassuring glace at Sam, Dean took off for the bathroom where he turned the shower on, making the water as hot as he could. Returning to Sam he proceeded to pull all of the covers from him only to find that Sam had curled himself into an impossibly small ball.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but this is going to be cold." Dean apologized as he pulled Sam's sweater and jeans off, leaving his undershirt and boxers on. Sam shook harder.

"Dean, I-I-I c-c-can't br-breathe." Sam gasped. Each breath felt as though a thousands knives were being driven into his chest, the pain intensifying each time his body shook.

"I know, Sammy. You stopped breathing for at least two minutes and you've been frozen solid. I'm going to get you into the shower to warm you up." Dean explained as he picked the younger man up, cradling him as though he were a babe. Sam, still weak, let his head flop against his brother's strong shoulder, one of a pair that had seen Sam through some of his most trying times. Aware that Sam would be unable to stand in the shower, Dean stripped down to his own undershirt and boxers and sat behind Sam in the tub, also hoping to offer what body heat he could, as the water rained down on them.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in pain as the hot water beat off his frozen skin.

"I know, Sam, I know it hurts." Dean replied, anguished that he was causing his brother more pain. Sam struggled against his brother's embrace, trying to get away from the water, but Dean held him firmly in place, resting his chin on Sam's head, trying to lend whatever comfort he could. He could feel Sam sobbing in pain, though whether the pain was from the water or from the pain in his chest Dean couldn't be sure, and could not hold back his own tears, these tears of happiness and regret that he was still hurting his brother. So, Dean tried to distract him from the pain, telling him stories from their childhood, asking Sam questions about their adventures, praying that it was working. Dean wasn't sure how long they sat under the stream of hot water but he was aware that Sam wasn't getting any warmer and had started coughing, hard, bone shaking coughs that cam from deep within his chest. Dean wasn't helping his brother.

"Sammy, we need to get you to a hospital." Sam nodded, his hair tickling Dean's nose.

"I-I-I'm just s-so t-tired."

"Sammy, don't you dare go to sleep on me!" Dean cried, sliding out from underneath his brother. Sam's eyes were mere slits, but when Dean yelled at him, Sammy listened. It had been that way all their lives. Dean yelled only when it was serious, when Sam needed to pay close attention.

"There, that's better." Dean said more softly as Sam opened his eyes dramatically. "Just keep your eyes open for me, Sammy. You can do it." Dean assured as he pushed Sam's wet hair out of his eyes. Sam blinked at his older brother, too frozen and tired to nod. Dean, with a final look at his brother, moved quickly into the other room where he shed his wet clothing for a dry, peat colored sweater and jeans, grabbing more clothing for Sam. In the bathroom Dean was distressed to find that Sam had drifted off to sleep again, his mouth under the water, nose following closely.

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean cried as he hauled the taller man out from the tub. Sam leaned helplessly against his brother, who was trying to dry him off.

"Sammy, I could use a little help here." Dean ground out, trying not to drop his brother and still dry him quickly. Sam couldn't afford to stand around soaking wet. Sam's only response was to drop down on the covered toilet seat, breathing raggedly. Dean studied Sam for a moment, deciding just how much trouble Sam was having with his breathing.

"I. . .I'm. . .okay,. . .Dean." Sam comforted, catching his brother's looks. Dean shook himself and got back to drying Sam's still purple skin off. Trying not to think about the horrific color Sam's skin had turned; Dean pulled Sam's clothing off and helped him into a pair of dry boxers, an undershirt, a short sleeved tee-shirt, a long sleeved tee-shirt, and a sweater. Sam felt a small laugh bubble up within him, but it turned quickly into another bone rattling cough.

"Sammy!" Sam shook his head to let Dean know he was okay, he just needed a minute.

"I. . .I'm. . .okay." He repeated his earlier statement. Dean looked at him skeptically but let it go.

"What's so funny then?"

"Think you brought enough clothing in for me?" Sam smirked.

"Dude, not even gonna comment on that idiot nature of that comment." Dean replied, helping Sam pull on a pair of thick wool socks and his running shoes.

"I think I can make it to the car," Sam offered trying to stand up but dropping back to the toilet seat weakly.

"Yeah, sure you can." Dean replied, wrapping Sam's arm around his own shoulders and practically dragging Sam out of the bathroom. In the main room of their motel, Dean helped Sam into a jacket and hat, zipping the jacket when Sam's hands shook too much to do so. _Just keep him talking._ Dean thought over and over to himself as they made their way slowly to the Impala.

"Sammy, were did you go?"

"What do you mean?" Sam mumbled. He was so tired, why wouldn't Dean just let him sleep? He hadn't thought he'd said the words aloud but he must have because Dean responded a moment later, "I can't let you sleep because you might not ever wake up again." Sam shook his head, he was really beginning to lose his mind. They finally reached the car and Sam didn't even bother to protest when Dean opened the door for him and buckled his seatbelt. Sam leaned his head back against the seat and sighed. His chest hurt, felt as though someone were sitting on it, and he hadn't really caught his breath since waking up, and his physical shaking wasn't helping matters either. Added to that he felt as though his head weighed a ton, and Dean turning the heater up to ninety some degrees was only making Sam feel more and more exhausted. He thought Dean might be speaking to him, but he was just too tired. _Dean will understand if I go to sleep for just a minute._ Sam reasoned. It was his last conscious thought.

* * *

Dean looked over when he realized that Sam hadn't responded to him in a few minutes. His brother had fallen asleep; his head leaning against the headrest, arms wrapped around him self, as he shivered, even in sleep. Dean sighed and pressed his foot against the accelerator a little harder. He tried to calm his racing heart. Sammy was going to be just fine. He'd come back from the dead, hadn't he? He'd come back when he'd had no pulse and hadn't been breathing for some two minutes. Sammy would make it to the hospital, he make it through whatever treatments the doctors prescribed, and in a few days, when Sammy had gotten his strength back, they would leave Oklahoma and everything would be okay again. They were going to be alright.

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Don't forget to review! I know by my little hit counter that you're reading so don't be lazy! Let me know what you think, and don't forget to point out any gramatical mistakes! xo

SJ


	8. The End

Hi everyone! This chapter is the last one, though I hadn't originally intended it to be that way. I'm not really happy with the ending but that's something I'll fight out in editing. Which brings me to my next order of business, this has NOT been edited, so let me know what mistakes you come across. I apologize for the delay in getting this out, I had really hoped that I'd be able to post it during my snow day Thursady, but my school decided that an ince of ice wasn't really that big of a deal, but that's a whole other rant. Anyway. . .

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO TOOK THE TIME TO REVIEW! Your support and encouragement has been invaluable and I am so beyond thankful to you guys.

Disclaimer: I own only those characters not seen on The WB.

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Chapter Eight

Dean paced the empty hallways of the hospital, wincing as his footsteps broke the silence, echoing off the bare walls. It seemed like years ago that he'd brought Sammy in, carrying his brother through the sliding, emergency room doors. He'd followed the doctors as they whisked Sam away on a gurney, but was stopped by a formidable looking nurse when he tried to go through the heavy wooden doors marked, "Hospital Personnel Only." Left to his thoughts Dean couldn't help but ponder what had happened back at the motel room. What had caused the hypothermia that was afflicting Sam now? What had caused the cuts that covered Sam's body? Why had he stopped breathing? What had he started again? Dean had performed plenty of exorcisms in the past, but never one to separate two people and he wondered if that was enough to explain what had happened to his brother. Thinking of Sam, Dean checked the clock again, rubbing his arms. For being a place that was supposed to heal people, Dean imagined they created more patients with their freezing halls, or perhaps that was just Dean's heart freezing at the idea that he could still very well lose Sam. If Dean had learned anything in the past few years it was what anything could happen when you least expected it, especially something negative.

Sighing, the elder Winchester returned to his seat, the hard plastic digging into his back. If every clock within sight wasn't wrong, Sam had been with the doctors for over an hour and a half. Dean couldn't figure out if that was something good or bad. He'd gone to the nurses' station so many times that they now seemed to brace themselves for his arrival, and each time they told him the same thing, "We'll come and get you when we know something." Dean leaned his head back against the wall and tried to get the image of an unconscious, purpled Sam out of his mind. His frustration was building by the moment. All he needed was to see Sam, to make sure that his little brother was okay, that he was still fighting, because Dean was certain that he couldn't do this thing without his little brother. Dean couldn't handle that kind of loneliness. When he was sure that he would lose it if he had to wait another minute, a doctor exited the swinging doors, the first Dean had seen all night.

"Are you Dean Winchester?" The white haired man in green scrubs asked as he approached the elder Winchester. Dean nodded numbly, the man didn't look pleased.

"You're brother was suffering from a serious case of hypothermia when you brought him in and could have died if you hadn't brought him in when you did. We've got him under some heating blankets now and we've been running his blood through a machine that is warming it before pumping it back into his body along with giving him heated oxygen that should help with his breathing trouble. The majority of his cuts were minor and the deeper ones had begun to clot by the time we saw him, he was very lucky." Dean sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall, unsure of whether or not his legs would continue to hold his weight.

"I don't mean to alarm you, Mr. Winchester, you're brother is going to be okay in no time. We'd like to keep him under observation for a few days to keep an eye on his lungs and to make sure he doesn't develop and infection, but at the moment I'm not too concerned, he's been responding to the treatments well." The doctor elaborated and Dean was sure that his knees were going to buckle.

"Can I see him?" He asked shakily. The doctor nodded.

"Yes, just as soon as we get him settled into a private room. One of the nurses will take you up." Dean thanked the doctor profusely before dropping heavily into the pathetic, plastic chair. He fought the urge to hyperventilate. _Sam was going to be okay._ The thought ran through his mind on a loop. He took a series of shaky breaths, trying not to burst into hysterical laughter born from the greatest relief he'd ever felt. Fifteen minutes later Dean was following a petite red head to his brother's room, 2115. He thanked her as he entered slowly, able to see the various tubes and machinery from the doorway. Dean couldn't lie, it freaked him out to see Sam connected to so many tubes and wires, all of them beeping and pumping and pulsing, but Dean pushed that fear aside as he approached his brother's bedside. Up close the machinery seemed less frightening. Dean could see that there was an IV in the back of his left hand, pumping warmed saline into his body, while from his right arm, the bend in his elbow, his blood was being pumped out of his body, through a warming machine, and back into his body through a similar tube in his left arm. A mask covered his nose and mouth, allowing Sam to breathe in warm air, something gentler on his lungs, Dean hoped. He knew that underneath Sam's hospital gown were the few stitches Sam had required, but he was going to be okay. Taking a deep breath Dean pulled up a chair, took Sam's limp hand in his own, and prepared to sit vigil for a long night.

"You know, Sammy, I don't think I've ever been that scared before. When I thought you were. . . gone," he found himself unable to say the word dead, "I lost it." Dean paused here and studied his brother's prone form.

"I don't ever want to feel that feeling again, Sammy. So, you need to pull through this and come out one hundred percent, because I'm not ready to be alone. I need you, little brother." He confessed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Dean pushed them back, unwilling to give into the tears that destroyed him back at the motel. Sam's grip tightened on his hand slightly and Dean stared at him, waiting for his gentle brown eyes to open, but there was no movement from the younger Winchester. Dean yawned, emotionally and physically drained, as he scratched he eyes with one hand, unwilling to let go of Sam. He never intended to, but Dean laid his head next to Sam's hand and in no time had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

In his dreams, Sam was back before the gate, staring at the hauntingly beautiful girl again, though he knew that this time he was dreaming.

"What happened to me?" He asked, zipping up the ski jacket that he'd never seen before. During this visit, Sam was happy to note, he was not bone chilling cold. In fact, he was quite warm.

"I thought you went to college? Stanford, no less. You, Samuel Winchester, lived. Instead of being sent on to your next life, going back to correct whatever mistakes you made, you went back to your old life. The cosmos or God or who knows what decided that you weren't quite done living this life, that those on Earth weren't ready to let you go quite yet, and so you were sent back." She explained, exasperated.

"So then what caused the cuts and the hypothermia? Why did I almost die?" Sam asked, equally frustrated.

"Humans cannot cross between the realms. Your subconscious can cross without your body suffering damage, like you are now, but your spirit cannot. When your brother exorcised Adelaide from you and you from her, you were sent here, an offshoot of Hell according to some, a vestibule to others. Your body suffered the effects, and for a minute there you really did die. Your brother didn't take that very well, probably part of the reason they sent you back." She explained haughtily. Sam frowned. He hadn't given any thought to what Dean had experienced while he 'played' in the spirit realm.

"Who are you? What are you?" Sam asked, studying her more closely. It was impossible to determine her age, she managed to look old and young at the same time.

"I'm the gatekeeper. I am. . .was human. When I died I was destined for Hell where Satan offered me immortality. He made it sound as though I'd be living the high life, that I'd be godlike. He didn't lie about that, but I'm only godlike in that I will never truly die. I will forever be nineteen but I will grow darker and darker. I don't even look like myself anymore." This last part she said so softly Sam wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't need your sympathy, Samuel Winchester!" She bit out

Sam waited before asking his next question, "Will I always dream of this place?"

"I do not know how long until you move away from this place completely, most likely when you have completely healed. I'll see you again, Samuel Winchester, but for now you must return to the waking world. Your brother needs you, the living need you." She told him, though her words sounded as though they were trickling down to him from a great distance. Sam sighed and felt a wave of exhaustion slip over him and could see no reason to fight it, and so Sam let himself drift away.

* * *

Bright lights. It was the first thing that Sam noticed when he opened his eyes. He still felt cold, but now it was not the bone numbing chill he'd felt before, but just a dull coldness. Sam felt a yawn building and was surprised when plastic rubbed against his nose and down around his chin. What was that and where had it come from? Where was _he_ for that matter? Feeling a little more alert, Sam tried to take stock of his surroundings. The antiseptic smell, the beeping, whirring machines, and the bright lights. _Hospital._ Sam sighed. The last time he'd been in the hospital he'd been eighteen and had almost died when a vengeful spirit had thrown him through the wall of a dilapidated building, but he'd had Dean there to entertain him, and entertain Dean had. _Dean. _Where was his older brother? Anytime Sam had been hurt Dean had been right there with him, tending to both physical and emotional needs. Sam tried to push himself up off the bed and found that not only was he too weak to do so, but a very heavy, warm, and fuzzy object was crushing his arm, a hand clasping his own. Sam freed his hand and ran it over the obstruction, trying to turn his head enough so that he could see it at the same time.

"Sammy," he heard a familiar voice mumble, and he had to smile.

"Dean." God did his voice sound awful, scratchy and raw, as though he'd been screaming for days. He continued to stroke his brother's head, too weak to push him, and, really, how nice would that have been anyway?

"Dean, come on man," Sam called again, a little stronger this time. He turned his head to the side a little more and caught sight of Dean stirring.

"Sammy?" He mumbled, slowly easing into an upright position as he fought to wake himself up. Sam waited for his brother's eyes to meet his before speaking.

"Hey, you totally killed my arm, man." Sam said with a smile, words muffled by the plastic mask that he still didn't understand.

"What?" Dean returned scratching his head causing the already sleep tousled hairs to be further displaced.

"You fell asleep on my arm and cut off my circulation. My hand's buzzing." Sam elaborated. He sounded ridiculous, he decided, with the mask and reached his hand up to move it. Dean captured the hand before it even made it to Sam's face.

"No, you need to leave the mask on, Sam."

"Why? What's going on, Dean?"

"You're in the hospital, Sam. You suffered a pretty severe case of hypothermia. Right now your blood is being pumped through a machine that's warming it and you're getting warm saline. The mask is warming the air that you breathe in, so don't go messing with it." Dean commanded and Sam smiled. The tightness in Dean's chest loosened a little at the flash of the younger man's pearly whites.

"What happened, Dean?" Sam asked softly. Seriously.

"I don't know, little brother, you tell me?"

"The last thing I remember is being in the shower with you, weird by the way. After that I was back there."

"Back where?" Dean gave his brother a sharp look.

"She called it the 'in-between.' She said that some view it as an offshoot of Hell but others think of it as a vestibule. She said that I was sent back, but that I died for a little."

"Yeah, well, you lived. That's the important part." Dean replied gruffly. He'd just as soon not revisit those all too fresh memories.

"Yeah, she said that you didn't take it too well." Dean looked away.

"You try losing your brother some time, see how much you like it."

"I thought I had when that Wendigo took you. I'm sorry I put you through that, Dean."

"Let's just try not to do it again, ever. How's that sound?" Sam smiled though it quickly turned into a wide yawn.

"You need to get some more sleep, Sammy. We can talk more about it your trip to the 'in-between' tomorrow, and who that girl was." Sam nodded at his brother's suggestion. He'd truly wanted to stay awake, but he was just so exhausted.

"Go back to the motel and get some sleep, Dean. Besides, I'm sure visiting hours are over."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, when are you gonna learn? No one can resist this face!" Sam tried to smile but a yawn beat him out again.

"That's it, sleep. . . now."

"G'night, Dean."

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"I love you too, Dean."

"Sam! Sleep!" The younger Winchester just laughed

* * *

Four Days Later

"Dean, I am fully capable of walking to the car." Sam argued the moment he saw the wheelchair. In the four days he'd spent in the hospital he'd quickly regained his strength and with it he found himself suffering from cabin fever. Sam had been ready to leave by day two.

"According to Nurse Anna you have to go out the way you came in, on wheels." Dean stated, loving every moment of torturing his brother. Sam shook his head, this was his dignity they were talking about. Sam was about to respond to his brother when a knock on the door interrupted them. Both Winchesters turned to find Adelaide and Caleb standing in the doorway, both smiling despite the sling that protected Adelaide's left arm.

"Hey, Adelaide, how are you doing?" Sam asked eagerly. She smiled softly as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"I faired far better than you did on the whole. I'm sorry I did come to see your sooner. According to Caleb I've been sleeping for the past two and a half days." Adelaide confessed.

"I see the 'in-between' agreed with you just as well. How's the elbow?" Dean asked.

"It'll be fine in a few more days. They say I can lose the sling as soon as Friday. After that I just have to get Caleb to give up the guilt trip he's been on since it happened." Caleb ducked his head at this statement while Sam and Dean exchanged a look. They knew that would take longer to heal than any physical wound, mental ones always do.

"I'm just glad we were able to sever the connection. I haven't been dreaming of you at all. What's it like on your end?"

"I haven't been dreaming of anything. I hope I haven't lost all of my abilities, but I can't say that I'll miss your dreams, Sam. You're life is a little bit much for me." She joked to hide her discomfort. Adelaide was, in truth, depressed that her abilities seemed to have been completely stripped from her. Without them she wasn't sure who she was.

"Well, we can't stay but we wanted to come by and thank you for everything you did for us." Caleb announced. Adelaide nodded her agreement.

"It's what we do." Sam shrugged, as if such a simple statement explained it all. Adelaide went to him first and stood on tiptoes to wrap her small arm around his broad shoulders.

"Try to be careful, Sam. I know that what you do is dangerous by nature, but you don't have to take some of the risks that you do. Take care of yourself, please." She pleaded and Sam gave her a strong hug in return, careful of her elbow.

"I'll try, Adelaide." A promise he wasn't sure he could keep. When she released him she moved on to Dean who was hesitant to be hugged, something she very well knew, but still she held him.

"Look after your brother, Dean, but don't forget to let him look after you sometimes. You don't always have to be the strong one."

"Yes, I do." Dean responded. Adelaide left it there, Dean was stubborn enough without motivation from an outside influence. They shook hands with Caleb, exchanged last goodbyes, and then Dean and Sam were left alone again.

"So, what's next?" Sam asked.

"I read something about a mermaid in Lake Erie; that could be interesting."

"We're going after Ariel?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Who?" Dean asked. Sam just shook his head. It was good to be alive.

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